The Living Doll
by Princess Baby Bride
Summary: Scott makes dolls for a living. Allison is his girlfriend. When Scott makes a new girl doll, Allison doesn' like it. And frankly, it doesn't like her either.


The lips were perfectly crafted, soft looking but porcelain and a beautiful dusting of pink and only were second best next to those dimples preciously carved. The eyes were shining, brown and beautiful underneath those closed eyelids with beautifully long lashes. Scott had to keep reminding himself that it was just a mannequin, but this had to have been his finest work yet, so determined to make this one specific doll as real as can be. The customer would surely be pleased with this one. He stood up straight, smiling down at the piece of artwork as he heard some noise behind him and he turned to smile at the brunett woman walking up behind him to wrap arms around his torso and snuggle into his back.

"Finished?" she asked and Scott crouched forward a bit, thumb running over the porcelain lips to smooth out the coloring and give it a pinkish tint.

"Maybe, it all depends if the customer likes it," Scott said, crossing his arms and looking over the face once more. The customer should like it, he never created a life-sized doll before. He crafted the smaller things, the little knick-knacks and mementos that would be found on the mantlepiece or on the desk in an old study. And he crafted dolls before, dolls for collectors and his girlfriend doing her part by making clothes for them to be dressed in. But Scott never had a task like this. . .he was surprised how well the final product came out, putting as much love in creating it. Scott turned, wrapping arms around the woman's waist and kissing her nose, "I think now you can start working on some clothes for her. I'll go call the customer and set up a pick up date," he replied and she nodded.

"Then afterwords, dinner and a movie?" she asked, batting her eyelashes and Scott just grinned even more.

"Dinner and a movie, got it," he said and she smiled at him, leaning up to give a soft kiss to his lips before the blond stepped around her and moved to exit the room and head for the nearest phone. Allison Argent glanced at the mannequin, crossing her arms and admiring the work herself while simultaneously trying to imagine the clothes she should prepare for her. The face was poised and elegant, intelligent. He could be dressed in nice clothes, maybe a work suit or dress clothes. She stepped forward and her hand brushed along the doll's cheek, skin baby smooth and soft and her thumb ran over its lips.

And Allison's eyes widened.

She yanked her hand away, almost screaming at the pain as she clutched her hand, a large gash on her thumb and the finger running crimson blood. Her voice strangled out a whine and she could hear Scott calmly walking back into the room before the sound of his feet rushing over to hold her hand.

"What happened?" he asked and she looked up, shrugging her shoulders and wincing.

"I-I don't know. I was just touching it and. . .I think I just cut myself," she murmured, looking at the doll and the lips that were smooth as possible. Cut? How could that be? In fact to Allison, it felt like. . .a bite. Scott bent down, examining the doll's face and then back at Allison's wounded finger.

"I guess I'll smooth the face out after dinner, just so there won't be any more accidents," he replied, gently cradling her hand and leading the blond woman out of the room. Allison turned her head, looking at the doll that was still sitting still on the chair with a worried expression. And she squinted her eyes to see the small drop of blood that was gently dripping between the closed lips.

* * *

><p>Allison smiled, looking at the clothes she set out. A nice sun dress. The doll would look simply gorgeous in these and the customer would be quite pleased. She took the dess and settled it down beside where the doll sat, looking at it and cautiously touching at her bandaged finger. She was wary to go near the doll without Scott being around to supervise, she didn't want to cut herself on a sharp shard or worst, might damage the mannequin. She bit her lip, hearing Scott moving around downstairs and she sighed, turning and walking into the door opposite of the hallway, the door that lead upstairs into the attic area where she kept all of her sewing fabric. Maybe she could design something else to go along with the doll, for free of course. She tapped her foot, turning her head from side to side to glance all around at the dusty interior before groaning. She forgot her sketchbook on the table and Allison turned to go back down the creaky stairs and out the door into the main workshop area.<p>

Only when Allison got to the table where her sketchbook was waiting for her did she notice that something was off. Didn't she place a stack of clothes right here for the doll? Her eyebrows furrowed, looking around the room and no sight of the. Well where could they have gone? Not like they just upped and walked away. She settled down her sketchbook and checked underneath the table, behind the easel where Scott sketched out the designs for the dolls, on the cupboards where the paints were stored and in the closet where Scott kept other things to aid him in his art. No clothes. She huffed and crossed her arms, passing the wastebasket to go downstairs and ask Scott if he seen them. Then she paused and turned.

There it was. Balled up with a sticky note marked '**Ugly**' attached and in the trash. Allison looked at it in amazement and then frowned, taking the entire wastebasket and carrying it with her downstairs through the kitchen and into the living room where Scott was sitting down doing nothing but eating an apple. She sighed, "Scott, you could have just told me you didn't like the dress."

Scott raised an eyebrow and asked, "What are you talking about?"

She showed him the wastebasket contents and Scott raised an eyebrow, "I didn't do that."

"Well who did? You and me are the only people in the house, Scott."

"Well I didn't throw them away and I don't know how they got in there. Just take it out and put it on her."

Allison raised an eyebrow herself, "Her?"

"The doll. You know what I mean," Scott said, sounding quite irritable and Allison stood quietly before taking the wastebasket upstairs. She walked up the stairs, carrying the wastebasket and once she was back in the workshop area again, she settled the clothes by the mannequin. The doll was still, sitting quietly and Allison shook her head. Of course it wouldn't be moving, how silly of her to think such a thing. She took out the dress, unfolding it and trying to smooth out the wrinkles before turning and facing the doll. She crouched down, trying to gently place the arm through the sleeve but found that she couldn't even budge the arm. She pushed and pushed, trying not to break the doll but the arm just wouldn't move. She knew it could move, she saw Scott raise the doll's arm a couple hours ago, what was the problem? She huffed, standing back up straight and crossing her arms, hearing steps from the stairs behind her.

"Everything taken care of?" he asked and she shook her head. Scott frowned, "Then what's the problem?"

"The arm is stuck or something," she mumbled and Scott walked over, crouching down and lifting the arm with ease. She frowned, she wasn't able to do that, what was going on? Scott sighed.

"I'll get her dressed, how about that? You just relax, I think you're getting tired," Scott replied.

"I'm not getting tired, Scott. I just. . ." Allison's words fell short, her eyes just staring at the doll's closed ones, ". . .Fine."

She handed the shirt to Scott without another word and then turned on her heel, heading down the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom to close her eyes and rest her clouded mind.

* * *

><p>Allison wasn't able to sleep at all for the past couple of days, for every time she tried to close her eyes, it always sounded like she could hear someone walking about in the halls and in the workspace above the bedroom. She would try to tell herself that it was all in her imagination or try to tell herself that it was just Scott that was moving around to do more work on the doll than he should. But that excuse became more and more hard to believe, seeing as though on some nights when she would hear the sounds, she would reach out to touch and see if Scott was still in the bed with her only to find that he was. And her eyes would trail over to the open door, far too dark for her to see anything quite clearly but for sure could make out something.<p>

A shadow cast from the light in the hall of someone.

It was never a burglar because everything was still in it's place the next morning. Or maybe it was all her imagination to begin with and the shadow was something else. And the sounds were common things like the wind blowing against their home and making that ominous sound of someone walking around in the dead of night. Allison tried her hardest not to daunt on it any longer, trying to get herself a good night's sleep this time around and not be in a panic. But as she tried to go into slumber, she found herself hearing those noises again and her eyes flew back open to watch a shadow move along the wall. The brown eyes followed it closely, trying not to lose it in the dark and trying to see what was the cause of it. Her fingers moved to grab at Scott in slight fight, now beginning to see a silhouette in the doorway, a woman.

"Scott," she whispered, voice squeaking in fear as the silhouette stood there. She couldn't see the face and they didn't move, only stood there and watched them. She didn't know if they knew she was awake and she shook Scott's arm. "Scott," she squeaked out again and Scott grumbled a bit, turning around in his sleep.

"What is it?" he mumbled and Allison turned back to the doorway before seeing that the silhouette was gone without a trace. She blinked, heart racing as Scott sat up in the bed to stare at the empty space as well, "What's going on?"

"There was someone here," she breathed and Scott rubbed his eyes.

"How? I would have heard them if they were right there," he replied and Allison shook her head.

"Well you didn't! There was someone right there and they were standing there watching us and-"

"Allison, you're being ridiculous. Just go back to sleep, I'm too tired to be fighting like this," he mumbled, flopping back down in the bed and turning over in the sheets. Allison sat there in the bed, looking in fear at the doorway before throwing the blankets over her body and scooting more closer to wrap arms around Scott. She tried to close her eyes again, trying to sleep.

Though she couldn't help but feel that there were a pair of eyes watching her through the sheets.

* * *

><p>"Is the customer going to pick the doll up soon?" Allison asked Scott one morning as Scott added more of a gloss to the doll's eyes to make them shine bright and beautiful. He glanced at her, shrugging.<p>

"I already left a message for it, they just haven't replied back. Why?" Scott asked and Allison crossed her arms.

"Just. . .don't feel really comfortable with it still in the house," she said quietly and Scott rolled his eyes.

"Allison, it's a doll. An inanimate object. What could it do?" Scott asked and she didn't respond, just stare at the doll's face. Scott sighed, getting up from his stool and settling the brush on the table, "Look, there's nothing going to happen with the mannequin. Just relax," he replied with his crooked smile and Allison tried her hardest to give a meaningful smile back.

"Y-Yeah, I guess I'm just acting silly over nothing," she laughed off and Scott smiled, leaning forward to give a soft kiss to her lips. She smiled against them, fingers going up into Scott's hair to run along the brunett strands as she began to nibble a bit on the lower lip. Scott hummed in pleasure, pulling her closer to him as his lips parted and tongue slowly began to slip out to press against her own begging for entrance and Allison was happy to oblige when her eyes fluttered open a bit and glanced behind Scott.

The doll. With eyes open and head turned looking straight at them. And the look was not of a blank and friendly stare, it was a mix of anger and hate, like it was mad that they were kissing. Or mad that it was _Allison _that was kissing Scott. She broke away, looking at the doll and pointing at it with eyes wide.

"Scott!" she shouted and Scott turned, the doll looking quite normal and in the same position that he left it. She blinked, but, but it was watching them and-

"Allison, are you feeling alright?" Scott asked and Allison furiously shook her head.

"Yes, I'm feeling alright! But that doll, Scott. Something is wrong with that doll," she said and Scott glanced back at the doll, crouching down and letting a hand softly graze over her cheek.

"She looks fine to me," Scott replied, hand cupping the cheek of the doll and thumb gently running over the lips again, as if he was caressing it. Allison bit her lip, looking at her boyfriend with furious eyes.

"Scott, something is wrong with that thing!"

"Allison, it's fine! Nothing is wrong with it! You know, just go back downstairs and relax, I think the fumes from the paints is starting to get to your head," he said sternly and Allison's cheeks grew red with embarrassment. She let out an annoyed grunt and turned on her heel, storming out the room to leave Scott with the doll. She huffed, crossing her arms and pacing back and forth, eyes every so often looking up at the ceiling to where Scott and the doll were.

Something was off about that thing. And Allison didn't like it one bit.

* * *

><p>Scott was spending a lot more time in the workshop nowadays, usually taking up his dinner into the room and only coming down to use the bathroom or to get ready to go to bed. Allison just kept her distance, feeling like she needed space from the blond anyways. She knew what she saw, she saw that doll looking at the two of them. And frankly, she didn't want to just have another fight with Scott about the whole thing. Though in some instances of curiosity, she would walk up the stairs and peek through the cracked door to see what was going on inside and the scene would always stump her.<p>

Scott wouldn't be doing anything. He would sit there and just gaze upon the doll, the mannequin sitting there lifeless and unmoving. Sometimes he would take his brush and powder and add more blush onto the cheeks and lips but then as he used his thumb to smear in the color, it would linger on the lips, almost as if Scott was reveling in the touch of the porcelain lips. Allison tried to tell herself to not be bothered by it, that maybe Scott was just going too far into this project and once the doll was in it's rightful place in its owner's care, things will go back to normal. That's all she needed to keep telling herself. But she was growing increasingly bothered, bothered and comparing how Scott would touch the doll's cheek and how he touched hers, that is, _if _he even touched her. He was distant, aloof and not much acknowledging her presence other than an 'Hello' and a 'Goodnight'.

It drove the woman insane.

She brought the clothes that she stitched one Saturday afternoon into the workshop, Scott suggesting that she put together an entire wardrobe for the customer to change the doll's clothes and she begrudgingly agreed, only for the sake of Scott just talking back to her once more. And as she folded the clothes, her eyes remained on the doll. Her eyes seething with hate and irateness. She folded one, two, maybe four shirts before dropping them all into the laundry basket and walking cautiously over to the mannequin and crouching down to look at it closely. Pretty, even she thought the doll looked handsome. Like it carried a sort of poise and elegance, intelligent even. But that was a silly thought, it was just a doll.

She turned her back, taking only one step before she paused at a voice.

_I don't like you, I hate you._

Allison urgently turned, eyes widening in shock. The mannequin wasn't looking at her but. . .no, it couldn't have been the doll. Dolls don't talk, don't be silly Allison. Don't be silly. She tried to focus back on folding the clothes, tried to forget what just happened. . .only it happened again.

_You are the ugliest woman I have ever seen._

She turned to look at the doll again, frown on her face.

"Hello?" she called out, walking around the space and checking behind the large cabinets and behind the draping curtains for anyone possibly hiding and saying those things.

_You're a failure of a seamstress too. Tacky clothing, tsk tsk._

"Whose there? Scott?" she called out again, heart beating in slight fear when she couldn't identify the location of the voice and head whirling around to look at anything and anywhere.

_Stupid woman, you should be replaced._

Allison stormed over at the doll, grabbing it by the dress and quickly began to unbutton the clothing. Was this a trick? Was Scott trying to play a cruel joke on her? Maybe there was a little speaker hidden and someone was saying those things about her. . .was it Scott? Was Scott insulting her? She threw off the shirt, nothing but bare porcelain skin and her heart thudded. Maybe it was in the pants-

"Allison!" she heard Scott shout out and Allison's grasp slipped on the doll. It fell to the ground, the body remaining mostly intact save for two of the fingers. Scott rushed over, pulling Allison away and picking the doll off of the ground to cradle and look at the broken hand in horror, "Look what you did!"

"Look what I did? Scott, what are you trying to pull here!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I think there's someone in here, that's what I'm talking about!"

"That again? Allison, I told you, I would have heard someone else moving around if there was someone here!"

"Then it was you!" Allison accused and Scott looked at the woman strangely.

"Now what are you going on about?"

"The voice! Scott, I heard a voice and if you're saying it wasn't another person in here then. . .how could you say those things about me!"

"What things!"

"You hate me, I make tacky clothing, I'm the ugliest woman you ever saw, how could you!"

"I never said any of those things!" Scott shouted and Allison's face went impossibly red.

"Then who did! Who! Scott, I heard _someone_ and-"

The brunett man was chuckling to himself and Allison let out an annoyed growl, "Now you think this is funny?"

"You sound ridiculous, Allison. There isn't anyone up here and I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe the paint fumes _are _getting to your head. Wear a mask next time you come up here," Scott said to her and Allison stomped her foot.

"Why don't you believe me! There is someone here, Scott! I heard a voice! I heard someone!"

"Relax, relax," Scott calmly said and then took the broken hand of the doll gingerly in his. He sighed, "All that work, I'll have to make some more fingers for you, huh?"

"Don't talk to it like it's alive," Allison spat, growing irritated and Scott shot her a look.

"Let's get you downstairs, Ms. Loon," Scott teased and the woman let out another annoyed shrill, stomping away from Scott and hearing a couple of laughs.

Though the laughter sounded odd, like there was an unnatural echo of two voices laughing.

* * *

><p>Allison wore a mask like Scott told her to as she opened the compartment for the sowing machine. Broken, she wasn't sure how but it was. And her mind strangely flashed to the doll, the doll with only one finger reconstructed and the other still on Scott's desk to be molded and shaped into the perfect little index finger. She shook her head, just a doll, just a doll. The cord was unplugged so it wouldn't turn on while she stuck her fingers in the machinery, examining what could be the cause. Little cogs and gears in various shapes lined the walls and springs that coiled as the tips brushed against them. Probably should have brought a flashlight, needed to see a little bit more be-<p>

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

The scream filled the space, the machine suddenly turning on and the gears spinning fast and catching three of her fingers. They crushed the digits against each other, determined not to let bone get in the way and Allison screamed even louder. She couldn't break her hand free, the gears and cogs slowly feeling as if they were turning the bones in her fingers to powder and the screams turned into loud sobs of pain. And in the screams and sobs and trying to pull her hand free, she could hear laughing.

_You break my hand, I break yours._

She weakly turned her head to find the doll in it's usual spot, smiling at her with a menacing and cruel grin. Brown eyes were wide and delightful and lips were curved into a smirk that made Allison sob louder and louder. She heard footsteps running up the stairs, Scott quickly grabbing her shoulders before running to the outlet. The gears stopped moving and Allison was able to wriggle her hand out. It was bruised and so sore, she couldn't bend any of her fingers other than her thumb and she let out more sobs and cries.

"What were you doing working on that thing with it still being plugged up?" Scott questioned her and Allison looked up at the blond, teary eyed.

"It was unplugged! She did it!" she shouted, pointing at the doll. It was sitting normally, facing away from Allison and having that still blank and friendly expression that made Allison sick to her stomach.

"Allison, it's a doll. It doesn't move," Scott slowly explained and she broke away from Scott trying to place a calm hand on her shoulder.

"It's alive! It's doing all this! That bite, throwing away the clothes, _spying _on us when we sleep! It's him! She's doing it all! She broke my hand because I broke hers!"

"Allison, you're going insane," Scott said in that same tone and it was making Allison more angry.

"I'm not insane! That doll! That doll is trying to hurt me and you're not seeing any of it!" she shouted, staring at the doll with wide eyes. If it wasn't Scott that was saying those things, if it wasn't Scott that threw away the dress or botched blood on the lips when she cut her fingers. If it wasn't _someone_, then who? It was something else, something unexplained and it frightened the woman to no possible end. That doll. . .that doll was trying to hurt her. But for what reason? Scott was slowly ushering her out, Allison shouting out that it was the doll, it was the doll that was doing this and the only thing she could hear was the sound of her fast beating and fearful heart.

* * *

><p>Allison, with hand in a brace, grabbed the doll one Wednesday night. The customer wasn't ever picking this thing up, the customer was never blessing her by taking this monster of a mannequin out of her home. She needed to do it for herself. For the safety of Scott and herself. She carried it, heavier than she thought it would be, down the stairs when Scott was out in the town getting groceries. She should destroy it, destroy it and just explain to Scott the details later. She'll explain everything to Scott once the doll was <em>gone. <em>

She carried it out to the garage, deciding that she would try to saw it with one of Scott's circular saws whenever the brunett did woodwork. Decapitate it, that ought to do the trick. She placed the doll down on the table, taking the saw in her other hand and starting it. The blade whirled, buzzing loudly and she slowly began to direct it towards the doll's neck.

_Scott will hate you when he finds me hurt._

"I don't care. I want you gone, you'll hurt us both," Allison hissed to the doll and he heard it laugh.

_I won't hurt Scott, Scott loves me. You. . .I hate you._

"Right back at you," Allison muttered and the tip of the blade grazed against the neck of the doll. Loud buzzing and small sparks came from the blade but to Allison's frustration, it wasn't cutting. It wasn't even making a scratch. Another laugh from the doll.

_Stupid woman. . .I hate you._

"Shut up!" Allison shouted, turning off the saw and placing it off to the side. She grabbed one of Scott's wrenches, gaining a firm grip in her hand. Then she turned, raised it high and brought it hard down on the doll's face. It didn't break, it didn't cave. It didn't do anything as Allison repeatedly struck the face over and over and over again, just only making the doll laugh more and more. She threw the wrench aside, picking up the doll and eyes frantically searching for something until landing on the garbage can. It'll have to do, she had no other options.

She threw open the lid, dumping the body of the doll inside and closed it shut. Then, she began to place toolboxes on it to make it hard for the doll to come back out.

_You'll be sorry for this._

"Be quiet! You're not coming back any more!" Allison shouted, layering more heavy objects on the lid.

_Scott's going to hate you. And he'll love me._

"He's not going to love some psychotic doll like you."

_Psychotic? Isn't that you? A grown woman afraid of an innocent doll?_

"Shut up!" Allison screamed, kicking the garbage can.

"Allison, what are you doing?" a voice called out and Allison screamed in fright, turning and seeing Scott with groceries in his hand. He eyed the garbage can and back to the fidgeting brunett woman and settled the bags on the nearest surface. He walked over, looking at the can and began to take everything that Allison layered on top of the lid off. Allison watched with fear as Scott removed the last toolbox and took of the lid to peer inside, his brown eyes widening at the sight. "Allison!" Scott shouted, taking the doll out of the trash can and cradled it in his arms, "What do you think you're doing!"

"It hates me, Scott! It wants to hurt me!" Alliosn shouted and Scott shook his head.

"You've gone mad!"

"No I haven't! It talks, Scott! It talks and it wants to hurt me! It wants to replace me!" she screamed and Scott rolled his eyes.

"Replace you? And why would she want to do that?" Scott asked and Allison pointed a shaky finger at the man.

"Because of that! You're talking to it like it's a human being! It thinks you're in love with it or something!" she shouted and Scott glanced at the doll's expression. Blissfully happy and sweet, bah. Lies, the thing was evil. He stared at the face before giving a shrug.

"At least he isn't going on and on about hearing things and seeing people. I could love someone like her." Kendall said in annoyance and Allison's eyes widened.

"Stop it! Stop it! You're encouraging it!"

"She's not real!"

"You're treating it like it's real! Now it _will _try to hurt me!" she sobbed and Scott groaned, walking past the woman and carrying the doll close to his chest.

"I'll call the customer again tomorrow afternoon to see if they'll come by and pick her up. Will that make you stop freaking out over nothing?"

". . .Yes," she said weakly, looking at the doll with blank eyes and Scott continued in carrying the doll back up to it's place in the workshop.

One more day. . .one more day and it'll be gone, she could do this.

* * *

><p>Scott left the next night, going to catch up with his buddies, Jackson, Danny, and Stiles, and let Alison handle the transaction when the customer arrived to pick up the doll. Allison didn't argue, she was tired. Tired of the entire situation and just wanted it all to end. She sat in the living room, bowl of popcorn in her lap and the late night showings of those old sci-fi shows she used to watch when she was little airing on the TV. Quiet except the sounds of dialogue from the television, the customer should be arriving any moment now. And any moment now, that doll would be gone. That doll would be away from her and won't be able to hurt her. That doll would-<p>

There was a noise. A clatter in the kitchen and Jo froze.

She turned her head, eyes widening as she heard the sound of someone rummaging in the kitchen and she slowly got onto her feet. She walked towards the kitchen, bowl in her hand gripped tight as if she was going to use it as a weapon and she felt herself biting at her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Only a couple more steps. . .she saw a woman. A woman with glasses in her hand and pouring herself a drink. Allison was confused.

". . .Hello?" Allison warily called out and the woman paused, turning to look over her head and gave her a smile that she knew all too well as her eyes widened.

"Hello, Allison," she said, the voice, _the voice_. Allison's fingers clutched at the bowl tight, her body quaking from the realization.

"Y-You-Y-You're human," she stuttered out and the woman laughed. Or was it the doll? She didn't know, she didn't know what was going on and she was frankly frightened at the situation.

"Surprised?" she asked.

"H-How? How are you-"

"I don't want to be a doll, Allison. There are so many things in this world that I want to do that I just can't accomplish if I were a doll. To live, to love. . .I'm not ever going to be a doll again, Allison," the woman said and Alliosn's eyes widened.

"But. . .but the customer-"

"Oh yes, the customer is expecting a life-sized doll to be waiting for him. . .Allison, you are looking very pale," she said with a smile, opening one of the kitchen drawers and pulling out a small, handheld mirror. She opened it, admiring his reflection before turning it towards Allison and the brunett woman looked in the mirror herself. She looked normal, if she was pale it was because the color flowed from her face in fright. But then she noticed something horribly off. Her eyes. . .looked glassy. She couldn't focus them on anything but the mirror, no matter how hard she tried to look in a different direction without turning her head. They were fixated, stiff and shone like. . .

Like a doll's.

She touched her face, dropping the bowl of popcorn and horror coming over her as her fingers didn't curl and instead felt like shear porcelain against her skin. She pulled her hand back, it stiff as a rock and her other hand was just the same. She looked at the woman, she smiling at her that cruel and mocking grin and she couldn't even find the sound in her voice to scream.

"Why? Why are you doing this? Why me?" she croaked, voice slowly fading as she felt her neck stiffening tight.

"Because Scott loves me. Why should he have something around he doesn't love as much as he loves me? I'm just doing him the favor," she said with a smile and Allison tried to open her mouth but her lips were sealed in an emotionless smile. And her legs grew stiff along with her torso. Her hair hung in her face and she felt her heart slowing. . .bit. . .by. . .bit. . .

* * *

><p>The doorbell rang twenty minutes later and a blond woman opened the door for the customer to enter inside.<p>

"I'm here for the custom-made doll. Is it ready?" the customer asked and the blond woman nodded with smile on her face.

"Right over here," she said, guiding the customer into the living room where the doll sat. Brunett hair with pretty wide brown eyes and faux smile on her lips. She was dressed in simple clothing, comfortable enough to be lounging in and maybe watch a couple of TV shows. Delicate, kind, the customer smiled at the doll and walked over to gently lift it up.

"Excellent, excellent work! She's perfect," the customer said happily and dug into their pockets while struggling to hold the doll in their grasp. The blond watched the doll's face, eyes almost believing that he could see a tear trickling down the blushed cheek as the customer handed him a check. "Thank you once again, my daughter will love it!" the customer said and smiled heavenly and the woman smiled back, taking the money and promptly escorting the customer out with the doll in hand. The woman stared at the door before letting out a sigh, walking back into the kitchen and grabbing a sheet of paper and pencil to begin writing the note Scott will find when he comes back home.

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry Scott, I just can't take it any longer<em>

_You don't believe me, you never listened to me_

_Perhaps it will be better if we took our separate paths._

_-Allison_

Scott studied the note and read over it countless times until he could no longer understand what the message meant. She. . .she left? All because of that rubbish of the doll talking and wanting to hurt her? Nonsense, it was all nonsense. It was just a doll, Scott didn't know what made Allison go so insane over something like that. He sighed, tossing the note off onto the counter and running a hand through his hair. How could this have happened?. . .He needed a drink.

* * *

><p>"Wow man, that must suck for you," Jackson told Scott, slapping the brunett on the back as he grabbed the beer bottle in his other hand. Scott just sighed, tipping the glass he had in front of him forward and backward.<p>

"I mean, I just don't get it. She was acting like it was a monster instead of a doll," Scott exclaimed, bell ringing at a new customer walking in to sit down at the bar beside Scott. The blondslapped Scott's back again.

"Women. That's why I stopped dealing with them a long time ago. . .maybe you should make the switch too," Jackson suggested and Scott scoffed.

"And what makes you think I'll start chasing men just because of this one instance?" Scott asked and Jackson shrugged, now looking at the woman that just sat down beside Scott and gave the brunett a nudge.

"She's kind of cute," Jackson said and Scott glanced over at the woman himself. The woman was. . .beautiful. Dimples that shone as she smiled at the bartender to take her drink, eyes a dark shade of brown that Scott found so alluring and chocolate hair to match. The woman's eyes flickered over to the two of them and Scott quickly turned away, small blush on his face.

"Were you staring at me?" the woman asked, humor in her voice and Scott let out a nervous cough.

"N-No, I was. . .you look. . .familiar," Scott said, trying to subtly take a look at the woman's face in closer detail. she smiled, shy and Scott found it actually kind of cute.

"Look like someone you know?"

". . .Kind of. . .but. . .nah. . ." Scott replied, shaking his head and continued to play with his empty glass. He felt Jackson nudge him, the blond encouraging him to continue on and Scott sighed. Probably wouldn't hurt to give it a try. Scott let out a soft sigh, "Um, what's your name?"

"My name?. . .Lydia," the woman said and Scott gave a small smile. Lydia, that was a nice name.

"My name's Scott," Scott introduced and Lydia smiled, sweet and kind and Scott was instantly dazed. Lydia had to have the nicest smile he'd ever seen. Pretty and innocent.

Like a doll's.

* * *

><p><strong>Ha, I hope yo liked it.<strong>

**I got some inspriation from Goose bumps. My favorite books!**

**Read & Review**

**~Rain~**


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